Footnote
by Ithlien
Summary: Eomer and Lothiriel ponder to whether they are making the right choice
1. How sure? How right?

Footnote

Summary: Lothiriel and Eomer reconsider their marriage.

Disclaimer: Eomer, Lothiriel, Faramir, Eowyn and all other character's belong to J.R.R Tolkien and Tolkien Enterprises.

Distribution: Fanfiction.net

Author's Note: All mistakes in this story are my own doing and I take full responsibility. As I was writing this, the story took on a different turn that I had originally intended however I really like it. 

**

_… I am discrete because it's sometimes wise_

_Just to shut your eyes_

_How sure? How right?_

_Can anyone be on sight? _

_I said I had Hope. I lied…_

_Sarah Slean- Elliot_

**

The long sheaves of grass danced lightly in the light caress of the westward wind. Rohan the proud horse kingdom had been waiting for this day for years. Not since the young wife of Theoden graced the halls had there been a queen of Rohan. Though many people of Rohan had wished for a queen to rule with the king, they were unsure of what to deem about this stranger from the sea, who would soon be in control of a kingdom she knew nothing about. 

Countless rumors circled the young princess wherever she walked. Many whispers claimed that she was a witch who had cast a spell on their Lord that her dance was one of Luthien, beguiling and bewitching. Others claimed that she was an elven princess, like that of Queen Arwen whom the King admired. Very few of the Rohirric people knew of what their new queen looked like. The young woman opted for staying indoors rather than perusing through the markets. 

Lothiriel knew of all the rumors, daily she sent her maid through the streets of Rohan to collect the gossip. It was a political alliance that was what the people of Rohan decided; she was nothing more than a bargaining cow in their minds. A woman of Gondor nobility traded to concrete the pact of Eorl.

It was quite discouraging. She and Eomer did not have a beautifully heartbreaking story like the King and Queen of Gondor, or an angst ridden tale of heroics like that of her cousin Faramir and his lady love Eowyn.

Their first meeting was when Eomer, after a drinking contest with Gimli during his Coronation, was sent stumbling to the houses of healing where she was stationed for the night. He had not looked so regal and fine when she first saw him, leaning heavily on her cousins arm muttering nonsense of dwarvish boasting, he had smelled overpoweringly of mead and horses. Still there was something about the man that had caught her attention, and later her affections. She had not known that he was the new crowned King of Rohan until his sister came to collect him. 

They met later at one of the numerous noble functions; her father led her to him and forced them into a dance. He spoke to her candidly about the night they first met, and she was shocked to find that her had remembered her face. 

He replied that he could never forget so fair a face. By the end of the dance, they made plans to meet again.  

And now, she was standing in front of a tall looking glass and was adorned in finest silks of Dol Amroth and preparing herself to become Queen of Rohan. 

Queen of a people that already despised her. Lothiriel grimaced at the thought, and nervously twisted her hair on the top on her head, a style that had become popular in Dol Amroth. Her glossy black hair piled upon her head seemed to solidify the common thought of Gondorian severity, the last thing she needed was to resemble a school marm. 

Sighing she loosened the hair, and threw down her comb. She was roomed in farthest corner of the hall from her groom. She supposed it was logical that the groom be kept away from the bride until the hand fasting to prevent any premature… couplings. However, she missed Eomer's company. 

The King of Rohan, it seemed had a reputation for being impatient and an often uncouth individual. That was the reason given to her sternly by her brothers as they hauled her away from her husband to be. Her father was fond of Eomer and admired him and their union greatly, however Imrahil wanted to keep his only daughter's reputation pristine. Appearances had to be maintained. 

When Eomer had proposed to her on the beach of Belasaf, with the moonlit night illuminating them and the waves lapping at their feet, it had felt so right. Their engagement was kept secret for many weeks, allowing Eomer time to prepare Rohan for the news. 

It was now, that she stood alone in her room that she wondered if she was making the right choice. She loved Eomer greatly, more than she had thought humanly possible. Before Eomer she had glossed over the strange emptiness within her, now that he was by her side he completed her. 

However, how many lives did they have to ruin to be happy? True her father seemed happy over their intended marriage, but he was one of the few.  She did not wish to spend her life wrestling for the affections of a people who seemed so adamant to dislike her. 

Just as she was debating whether to throw of her wedding dress and run off into the sunset a knock sounded at the door. Hesitantly she opened the large wooden door, revealing her cousin on the other side.

Faramir bowed slightly before entering the room. Faramir glowed faintly in the dusk the small closed of room; he bore the manner that only a man in love could. Lothiriel could not help grinning at her cousin's obvious happiness. It was a startling difference from the solemn soldier she had seen last year.  Despite the difficult trials her cousin endured, he was a stronger and better man. 

Faramir grinned softened slightly when he saw her composure. "Are you nervous?" He inquired sitting on a nearby chair. 

" Yes." Lothiriel nodded, her eyes never strayed from the mirror. She chewed her lips nervously then turned from the mirror. " Do you think they'll like me?"

Faramir looked confused for a moment before answering her. "Who?"

"Everyone." Still seeing her cousin's confusion she elaborated. " I don't think that everyone approves of my marriage to Eomer."

"Who?"

" The townspeople, the nobility. They either make me out to be a conniving witch or a trading agreement."

Faramir smiled grimly and rose from his seated position he grasped her hands tightly and forced her to look up at him. "You cannot live for others, Lothiriel. I have not known Eomer king for long, but I can see that he has fallen deeply in love with you. Do not let a few petty whispers ruin what chance for happiness you could have. What all your questioning comes down to is whether or not you love him."

Lothiriel wretched her hands away and hastily turned away from her cousin. "Leave me."

" Lothiriel." Faramir objected placing his hand on her shoulder. " Don't…"

"Now." She ordered opening the door, bolting it after he had left. 

Long shadows were cast into the room, it was nearly time. She paced in the room, her white dress trailing behind her with each step. Finally, with a look of resolution on her face she threw open the door and left the room.

***


	2. I wasn't brave at all

Footnote

Summary: Lothiriel and Eomer reconsider their marriage.

Disclaimer: Eomer, Lothiriel, Faramir, Eowyn and all other character's belong to J.R.R Tolkien and Tolkien Enterprises.

Distribution: Fanfiction.net

Author's Note: All mistakes in this story are my own doing and I take full responsibility. As I was writing this, the story took on a different turn that I had originally intended however I really like it. 

**

_I'd make beautiful sounds_

_I'd lay you down like a lover would_

_My pride, still standing tall_

_But looking back, I wasn't brave at all_

_I wasn't brave at all, was I? _

Sarah Slean- St. Francis

**

In the king's chamber in Mesthusled, there was an overly large, overly stuffed chair in which the new king of Rohan would often occupy. Often the servant had pleaded with the king to get rid of the eyesore from the royal chamber, but each time the king had declined. One of his earliest memories was of his father sitting in that very chair converse with King Theoden over many manners. Since his fathers passing Eomer cherished that chair, it being one of the few links he had of his parents. The wood grain was splitting, and the fabric had begun to tear but still Eomer treated the chair with the same care he would Firefoot.

The chair was now hastily brushed aside as the King refused to keep still.

Eomer paced his room incessantly, his long strides covering the length of the room in a few steps. Upon reaching one end of the room, he would sigh heavily and focus into space searching for an answer then quickly spin around and cover the same area again.

This had been going on for an hour. 

"Peace brother." Eowyn laughed slightly. " At this rate the floors will be weakened, and who knows what may happen on your wedding night."

Eomer paled for a moment, his face turning a sickly colour. He quickly seated himself next to his sister and drummed his fingers repeatedly a near by desk, several times he turned to his sister attempting to speak but would only change his mind last second and turn away.

" Is this the manner of a king?" Eowyn questioned impertently. " I would hate to regard you disposition in a war council."

Eomer ceased his drumming and turned to his sister, " war is not so agitating."

" I don't see why you're so nervous." Eowyn said matter of factly, " it's not like it'll be your first time bedding a woman."

Eomer coughed, choking on his sister's words. His face turned red and he fumbled in an attempt to answer her. 

Eowyn laughed at her brother's obvious discomfort. Growing up in a man's hall had given Eowyn a certain bluntness and humor which was never seen among the court ladies, especially those of Gondor. "Oh please, it isn't like I haven't heard the stories. I grew up around you and your Eored. I have heard many things that would curl the hair of most women."

" That was most improper." Eomer said finally, rising from his seated position. " I thought Ithilien would have cultured you a bit, strengthened your propriety."

" In his home, Faramir cares little for propriety." Eowyn shrugged, a fair smile gracing her features as she thought of her husband. " Besides, a change in scenery will not change my manner and neither will he."

Eomer paced silently for a moment, unnerved by his sister. "This is…" Eomer concluded. " This is different. It's not a meaningless romp with a barmaid."

" I'm sure Imrahil would thank you for that compliment to his daughter." Eowyn teased.

Eomer gave her a pained look then a sudden look of shock crossed his face. " Imrahil." He sighed sitting once again. 

Eomer was never a silent man. Being forced into positions of power at a young age had taught him to think and act quickly. The Rohirric in him would not allow him to be still.  He sat silently for a time, reminding Eowyn heavily of her husband when mention of Boromir. Eomer thankfully spoke again before she was forced to act. " Imrahil raised her well. She grew up with balls and courtiers and culture. She speaks three languages; she knows the ancient customs of every country. What can I offer her? A kingdom where the major festival is one devoted to horses. A land where few can read?" Eomer shook his head and pulled out a flask from under his shirt, he gulped it as a man dying of thirst would. Upon draining the flask he threw it own beside him. " She deserves a man that can offer her something more. This should not go on." 

Seeing her brother head for the door, Eowyn leaped out of her chair and grabbed his arm. " Damn your head Eomer, of all the days to listen to it you chose today." Seeing her brother turn away once again Eowyn called out, "she loves you."

Her brother stopped short, and turned. " How do you know? You have only recently known the season of your heart, what do you know of others?"

Eowyn guided her brother back to his chair and admonished him like a child. " If you can not even see it Eomer then you are a blind fool. She lights up when you are near her, and if that wasn't reason enough I have sent Faramir on many inquires to be sure that she is suited to you."

Eowyn laughed and knelt beside her brother. " She has seen you at your absolute worst. I noticed her manner towards you even when you were to drunk to see it. Not many women will marry the man who threw up on them while they were attending to their needs." 

" She told you about that?"

"Faramir did. Needless to say, you are a match. I know few women that can stand your impulsiveness."

" I know of few many that can stand you insolence." Eomer retorted he was silent for a moment. " I love her, Eowyn. More than I thought possible."

" Then why do you persist this melancholy state?" Eowyn asked

Eomer looked at her, " It has passed. I am simply nervous. Please leave me."

Seeing her brother would pay her no more heed, Eowyn left the room.

No sooner than she had departed an obnoxious knocking rapped on the door. Eomer ignored it for a moment, content to be alone but the knowing would not desist. Eomer threw open the door, expecting to see his sister but instead was greeted by the sight of his bride.

" Lothiriel." He stammered allowing her into the room. He wished to question her more but upon seeing her state he stopped. Lothiriel was wringing her hands in front of him, her stormy eyes that he delighted in gazing into were widen and alarmed. 

" My lord." She greeted finally, sitting.

Eomer forgot his concerns and sat beside her taking hold of her small hands. He kissed them softly and asked her why she had come. 

Unable to withhold her doubts any longer, Lothiriel immediately spoke of all that had concerned her. And after her fears were all told and she sat quietly unsure of how to act, Eomer began to laugh. 

***

1320 was renowned for the marriages of that year. Many of the most famous couples in middle earth were married in that spring. The romantic tale of King Aragorn and Queen Arwen was one that was told for many years in Gondor, waxing poetic on their grace and courage. Faramir and Eowyn's story of escaping darkness was one that was uttered by many young lovers pledges their vows. Even the love stories of the hobbits of the shire had their tales told across middle earth.

Eomer and Lothiriel were never one of the tales told in the ballads sung at courts. Their love was one of the forgotten. Becoming a mere footnote in romance history. Indeed there were many whispers among the nobles of the marriage being an act of trade. Lothiriel was often dubbed a witch of Rohan by a few simple-minded people, and would always be a stranger in their land. 

The new King and Queen of Rohan however, never heard of these rumors and gossip.  Far too involved in each other and their future. They ruled Rohan with a steady hand, the pact of Eorl was always heeded and Rohan prospered one more.  Eomer was given the Elvish surname 'Eadig', blessed for his fortune in life. 

A fortune, which he always contributed to be Lothiriel's doing.

At their wedding Queen Arwen wisely gave them advice, which took her many lifetimes to learn. She had looked upon the couple with a grave and loving smile, holding the arm of her love, and said that love was more than sonnets and seduction. It depended solely on emotion and the fullness of one's heart. The ability to let the one you love run free into the west with a full and forgiving nature. 

Author's Final note: I've read  (and written!) many story where Lothiriel takes on the character of either a healer at the Houses of Healing in Gondor, or that she was a practicing wicca. I really wished to allude to both those character choices in this fiction. 


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